


bloodstains.

by silvertonguedbeau



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Budding Love, Drama & Romance, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Femslash, Hurt/Comfort, i hope i'm using all the correct tags???, this is my first time posting to ao3 rip me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6631246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertonguedbeau/pseuds/silvertonguedbeau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>take my bloodstained heart and make it new; fill it with love and all that i've missed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bloodstains.

**Author's Note:**

> it's literally been a thousand years since i posted fanfiction, and here i am returning with lesbians and angst. this is intended as a oneshot, but it's possible i may do more on this pairing later, perhaps in a lengthier fic. if you want to suggest things to me, take a look at my tumblr, i have the same username there! also yeah i sort of skimmed over details of their supports and wanted to have most of this be my own ideas of what happens next. think of it sort of like a makeshift s support lmao.
> 
> i do all editing/writing myself and have terrible eyesight, so sorry for any mistakes!

* * *

 

If you asked Beruka what her job was--- well, she wouldn't answer you, but she'd always assumed the role of a supervisor of some sort. She kept an eye on things, making sure everything worked in Lady Camilla's favor. She repaid her liege's kindness with something like undying loyalty.

 

And somewhere in the mix, Beruka, _never the conversationalist_ , had been forced into many situations she'd rather avoid. Like talking to people. In particular, Oboro, a multi-talented retainer to a Prince from Hoshido.

 

From her astute observations (of which, Beruka naturally had many), she had never thought that such a fierceness could emit from the retainer of Lord Takumi. Then again, had she been told that in the near future, she'd be working as comrades with Hoshidan forces, she would've thought the idea insane. From the shadows of Nohr to the service of a royal was a twist enough for Beruka's life, but this was just madness. How Corrin thought they'd deal with this was well beyond the former assassin. She'd always thought her comrades to be a touch mad to begin with, so perhaps that explained it.

 

However, back to the sight of the Hoshidan woman's rage, Beruka could not help but feel disgust. Not for her; the respectable retainer was probably more than she herself would ever be. No, Beruka was instead brought to feel bile in her mouth by the deeds of past, those to do with a man, who while not of her flesh and blood, was still considered a relative.

 

Try as she may, multiple encounters with Oboro made it hard to deny what her 'father' had done. She had initially refused to speak to the woman (most of the aforementioned talking was on Oboro's part), but her insistence made her give in. In a way, Beruka respected her determination.

 

Maybe it was why she opened up.

 

Beruka's life was no fairy-tale. Nor was Oboro's.

 

The death of Oboro's parents, the miserable excuse for a father Beruka had once had, it was all a part of a tale they could not change. It was seen so clearly in how strong Oboro had become; Beruka wondered how much of her childhood had been spent dreaming, of following in the footsteps of her talented parents, only for them to be ripped away.

 

Beruka felt it was honorable to offer her life to Oboro, by the means of getting revenge for all that had happened. But the anger, the hatred, all of the sad things that had happened, they seemed to melt away and leave Oboro hesitant.

 

She did not understand Oboro's sudden sympathy and how easy she found it to let go of the past. How long must she have bottled up the hatred she felt towards the man who stole the life of her family?

 

The longer she was in this joined army, the more that Beruka became both fascinated and confused by the inner workings of this peculiar woman. Although she was undoubtedly terrifying when provoked, Oboro was also gentle and had hands capable of such delicate work, like that of detailed garb for Hoshidan royalty.

 

Beruka was not one to have hobbies, or so she would call them, _distractions_. She almost forgot that people had a life outside of war; that they smiled, they laughed, and they loved. Oboro did all of those things, and most prominently with Lord Takumi. Sometimes ( ~~ ** _all of the time_**~~ ), Beruka felt envy for how the woman could feel and show love, especially to the one she served.

 

Beruka may never say it, but she loved Camilla, almost to the extent that Oboro cared for Takumi. However, she was incapable of communicating her emotions, and most of the time? _She didn't know she felt anything at all._

 

Given the right circumstances, Beruka would live her life entirely in the shadows. Perhaps something she carried over from her upbringing, and not only because of her training as an assassin. Having such a poor life had lead her to become even less social, and her understanding of rather common practices wasn't all that great. Celebrations were foreign to her, only witnessed from a distance so that she could be near Camilla or Selena.

 

She didn't say it, like she never said anything else, but she wanted to feel what they felt. She wanted to understand the light in Oboro's eyes, the emotions she felt. She wanted it all. Even to feel and express some rage. _Anything_ , so she wouldn't feel empty anymore.

 

* * *

 

Oboro was fairly certain that she was getting better at being around the Nohrians. Previously, they had suffered from her unadulterated rage, but through time, and what some would call healing, she had grown as a person and come to accept her allies more willingly.

 

Meanwhile, Beruka had kept her distance. Although Oboro noticed her from afar, she said nothing on the matter--- at least, for a while.

 

While Oboro had neither avoided nor sought her out, Beruka had come to the conclusion that Oboro would keep her distance. She had underestimated the kindness that many Hoshidans seemed to possess, and before long she was approached by the woman.

 

"You'd really be doing your clothes an injustice if you let them get stained like that." Oboro hadn't hesitated this time when she spoke, where as last time they'd left off on an unusual note. It was a way of making conversation nonetheless, although nothing like their first talks.

 

"..." The only way in which it was like before was in how Beruka maintained her silent, chilly demeanor. Oboro appeared not to be having any of that nonsense, and thus furrowed her brows, her expression bordering on something darker and less happy.

 

"Come on, I have to wash some of Lord Takumi's clothes, let me do yours too!" The repeated insistence made Beruka almost cringe, but Oboro's tugging eventually won her over, just not without a sigh of defeat.

 

"Fine. I'll be back." It didn't sound like a promise, but Oboro was shocked to find that Beruka had been telling the truth, and that she returned a few moments later wearing much lighter clothing, which if Oboro had to guess, was from Camilla's previous casual wardrobe.

 

"Do you still hate me?" It was a question asked while Oboro dutifully scrubbed at Beruka's clothes. The pause in her movements made Beruka stiffen, though not noticeably. Had it been anyone else, she'd think they were about to lash out. Beruka remained where she was, perched on the remains of a demolished stone wall.

 

"No. I don't think I ever hated you. I'd have some bad days ahead of me if I did, since you're always around." The way that Oboro said that made Beruka's eyebrows raise, even if they were not visible. It was said as though she had noticed how Beruka stayed to the shadows, continuing her observation of the seamstress.

 

"What? You didn't think I'd notice? I'm used to it. We have Ninjas, you get used to being watched." The explanation was given with a bit of a shrug and a particularly aggressive attempt at scrubbing blood stains. Beruka wasn't so sure of the nonchalance. Most people overlooked her, or chose to out of fear.

 

Beruka's lack of a verbal response didn't deter Oboro this time. Instead they went on in silence, asides from a few greetings that Oboro gave to her fellow comrades when they passed her by. Meanwhile the former assassin merely watched the lancer, finding that there was no reason to speak up.

 

* * *

 

Time goes on. But things don't seem to change very much.

 

"I heard from Selena that you wear mostly hand-me-downs!" Oboro's offended voice piped up out of nowhere, and Beruka's concentration on sharpening her weapons immediately dropped. She merely rolled her gaze up to the woman and gave her a questioning look, if one could call it that. Since when had Oboro been talking to Selena?

 

"Lady Camilla and Selena have great taste, it's not that---" Oboro shook her head and put her hands on her hips, a typical frown on her features. "But why don't you get something new? Your clothes are getting worn out."

 

Ah, Beruka understood now. She should've known, the one who was a seamstress would want her allies clothed in both practical and perhaps fanciful attire.

 

"It's not necessary," was all she gave as an answer, something she anticipated as being enough, but for Oboro, it was far from it.

 

"You sell yourself short! Everyone needs some good clothes. Heck, I can make you some!" Suddenly, Oboro was spun into the endless thought pattern she often entered; one of fabric, of seams, and all that she could do to outfit her comrades.

 

Beruka wouldn't deny what she said, though. She didn't think too highly of herself on most days. She wasn't even sure why she was being given this sort of attention. She didn't know if she liked it or not, either.

 

_A week or so later, Beruka received a gorgeous outfit. Every so often since then, she got a new one added to her wardrobe._

 

* * *

 

_**I'll let you undress my mind; I can give you what you need.** _

 

* * *

 

"Beruka?" For the second time, that voice broke her away from her thoughts. This time, she's grateful for it.

 

"Yes, Oboro?" She didn't give away how she felt, since she didn't even know if she happened to be feeling anything at all. It was the middle of the night and Beruka had expected to be alone until dawn, or just before it. Few people were awake right now.

 

"Are you alright? I, uh, I saw you've been out here for a while..." It wasn't hard to tell that Oboro felt awkward, no doubt because it was impossible to approach Beruka successfully.

 

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Of course, she responded with a question rather than an answer, but she was legitimately curious as she watched the woman settle down to sit with her legs beneath her.

 

"Oh, I like to get stuff done at night. There's not a lot of time in the day for things like cleaning." That would explain the bustling noises that Beruka had picked up on. She'd never thought much of who must be cleaning the castle and places surrounding it, but Oboro, being the cleanly fiend she was, was a sensible conclusion.

 

"... are you gonna answer me?" Oboro's second question made Beruka look away and then up to the sky. The moon was visible, and also the only source of light. It was comforting, maybe the only constant thing that Beruka had ever had in her life.

 

"It doesn't matter." _Or so she told herself._

 

"Huh? Of course it does--- I mean, I don't know what _it_ is, but---" Oboro's attempt was cut off as she gave a frustrated noise and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

 

"Why do you ask?" Oboro could hear that Beruka was genuinely interested, maybe even confused. It caused her features to soften as she looked to the other.

 

"I... well, I just thought I'd ask. I don't see you talk to other people, so I thought... maybe..." She trailed off, looking up to the sky, looking to the moon as Beruka had.

 

"You probably still think I hate you--- but I don't. I think that maybe you had a life like mine. I remember feeling very alone. Working for Lord Takumi has made me happy. Does working for Lady Camilla... make you, happy?" Oboro's expression shifted to one of worry, something that Beruka couldn't comprehend.

 

"... I'm paid nicely. I have a good job." But was she happy? Happiness seemed like it was so far away.

 

"Money makes you happy?" Oboro didn't hide her disdain, because that hardly sounded like something she'd expect from Beruka.

 

"No. I didn't say that. But security is a staple in life. I offer it and I have it. What more can be asked for?"

 

"Friendship," was blurted from Oboro's lips, in an instant becoming a regret as her cheeks flared with color. "I mean. Don't you confide in anyone, Beruka? Your... fellow Nohrians are... kind," the words were barely said, as if it caused her strain, but she was telling the truth. She'd lived her life hating everyone from Nohr, and everything about the place, but slowly she found herself getting over her fears.

 

"Kind. Is that how you describe us..." Beruka had heard the insults Oboro initially threw at those from the Nohrian army, but she also understood the brutality. Oboro had been hurt, she'd had so much taken from her, that everyone who knew her now... they understood the way she had acted. Maybe she wasn't forgiven by everyone, but she had never been disliked by Beruka.

 

"Yeah--- Look at Lady Elise! She and Lady Sakura are such good friends now!" With an attempt to justify her claims, Oboro smiled shyly, before she quietly asked, "do you have any friends, Beruka?"

 

" ** _A few_**."

 

* * *

 

_I can make you **feel**._

I can make you feel **_alright_**.

 

* * *

 

"It's you."

 

"--- what?"

 

It was well past midnight, again. It had been weeks since Oboro and Beruka had spoken about friendship. Beruka's vagueness had made Oboro give up, but they had sat together for a while longer. Since then, they'd fought together, and even shared a few meals.

 

"You. You're one of my friends." Beruka added on to what she'd first said, observing how she'd startled Oboro. She'd been hanging sheets out to dry, as the sun would be up before too long. No doubt, she hadn't expected the former assassin. Oboro had been busy humming, the tune of some traditional Hoshidan tune.

 

"I--- me?" Oboro's shock turned to awe as her eyes fluttered.

 

"Yes."

 

"W-wow... Beruka! That's---" She hadn't expected it, but Oboro flung her arms around Beruka and gave her a quick hug--- in a flash, it was over.

 

"I'm glad. I thought... I thought how I acted, that you'd never..." Oboro trailed off, looking down as a bit of sadness came to her.

 

" ** _No_**. I never thought badly of you, Oboro."

 

Just those words made both of their hearts take on different beats. Oboro's smile was a bit strange, but Beruka's twitch of her lips was no better.

 

They both kind of liked it.

 

* * *

 

  
Weeks pass. War continues. Beruka feels different. The only thing in life that is unpredictable is the difference in how she feels; war and tragedy were familiar, but the kiss of insecurity made her look at things in a way unlike before.

 

Her gaze would get caught on Oboro more now. She wasn't in the shadows anymore; she felt almost bare as she accompanied the seamstress to events, to battles, and to their midnight meetings.

 

For the first time in a long while, Beruka was afraid.

 

"... that is definitely my favorite story. The Lady of the Moon. Hoshidans say she walks among us, too. She comes down from the sky, in the form of a goddess. Can you imagine how beautiful she'd be? I wish I could make her a dress." Oboro had become familiar, all of her stories.

 

Beruka had never paid much mind to stories from Nohr, but the Hoshidan ones were fascinating to her. She got lost in the descriptions Oboro gave, of places, times, and people different than those who were here now.

 

Beautiful maidens, fantastical creatures, stories of love and triumph--- really, when one thought about it, not that different from what they witnessed every day. What separated them were that some lived on in memories and paper, and others were lived out day by day.

 

"Yes. I like that story, as well. I learned of it long ago, but it only seems interesting now," and another change to add on to the list of unusual things; Beruka spoke more than a few simple words. She gazed at Oboro openly, not hiding the fact that she did so.

 

"Really? I've loved it since I was a kid." Beruka fought the urge to say that she only liked the tale when coming from Oboro herself. The seamstress had not changed much. She was just as lively, but more open and animated. She was ever-dedicated to Takumi, but she had also found time in her life to be with her friends more. Her lord approved of that, proud of her.

 

It reminded Beruka of what Lady Camilla had said the other day.

 

_"It's good to see you have a little friend, Beruka! How darling. Be sure to speak well of me to her, okay? Maybe we can have dinner sometime."_

 

Selena, too, had voiced her feelings on the matter. Of all things, her friend had felt pride for Beruka finding another person to be close to.

 

However, both Camilla and Selena seemed to find the situation a bit odd.

 

Beruka did, too, in all fairness.

 

"Are you okay? You look kinda out of it. Do you want my shawl? It's kinda cold. Oh, I can make you a shawl next!" The spike in excitement was not unusual, as it was witnessed nearly every day when Oboro thought of a possible new addition to Beruka's still-lacking wardrobe. But the excitement didn't do much to help Beruka give an answer.

 

"..." The silence was now uncharacteristic for Beruka, when in Oboro's presence.

 

"... maybe not a shawl? I guess it wouldn't be too useful, could get in the way," she reasoned out why Beruka's silence had struck again, a small frown coming to her lips.

 

"A shawl would be nice, Oboro." Beruka shook her head; by now, she'd wear anything that the other made for her.

 

 

"But... you still seem upset."

 

"I know. I don't think much can be done." Quick to change the subject, Beruka cradled her head in the palm of her hand as she looked up to the sky. The moon was nearly the same as when they had first met under the stars.

 

"You remind me of her." Beruka spoke up after a moment by voicing a rather cryptic message, one that made Oboro tilt her head and blink.

 

"Who?"

 

"The Lady of the Moon. The art that is in the castle, it bears a resemblance to you, too. Maybe you're the goddess." Without a change in her tone of voice, Oboro assumed Beruka to be telling a joke, and laughed accordingly.

 

"What?"

 

"That's kind of funny. I wish I did, though."

 

"... I meant it."

 

Now silence remained between the both of them. Beruka, staring at Oboro with her mauve eyes, and Oboro, staring back, with her own brown ones.

 

"I apologize. I was too straight-forward," again, Oboro was confused by what Beruka said, but piecing together how she generally acted, made the seamstress' eyes widen as she felt her cheeks heat up.

 

"Beruka--- were you trying---" to flirt? to express some sort of feeling for her? Gods, any way of asking it made Oboro feel mortified. She couldn't bring herself to assume that, in any likelihood, Beruka found her to be beautiful.

 

But what Oboro failed to see was that she put herself below everyone else. While Oboro thought that Beruka was stunning and mysterious, Beruka herself saw Oboro as a radiant caregiver.

 

"I'm not upset, Oboro. It took me a long time to realize that I'm not confused, either." Beruka's pause was a hefty one, that made Oboro nervous as she tapped her fingers together and tried to divert her attention.

 

"I figured out that I was in love with you. That... I am in love with you. I did not know how to say it earlier. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry."

 

\--- the apologies were quick, and Beruka was even quicker in person when she stood up, startling Oboro by trying to walk off. She just barely wrapped her head around what was said before she managed to reach out and grab one of Beruka's calloused hands.

 

"No--- I'm--- ok, I'm uncomfortable, but--- it's not _that_ kind of uncomfortable! Beruka, I thought you were just... teasing me," she furrowed her brows and swallowed, "I didn't know you were serious."

 

Beruka didn't bother asking why Oboro thought she'd suddenly decide to be a jokester, but instead turned back to her and let her usual stoic expression drop, instead looking vulnerable, much like she had felt as of late.

 

"You're... you're really handsome, Beruka--- I mean, pretty?" The attempt at flattery caused a chuckle from Beruka, who's expression lightened up. "I... I really care about you too. I didn't know you cared so much about me."

 

_Neither did I, until recently_ , Beruka wanted to say.

 

"War doesn't breed love very well. I recognize that I care about you and I don't want to lose you. Time isn't on our side, Oboro, but I still love you." Maybe the harsh circumstances were what brought them together to begin with, putting aside the truly tragic way their personal lives had been strung together.

 

"I want you to be happy, Beruka. If I can make you happy, then I want to be with you," the genuine form of determination and care made Beruka's chest feel warmer than it had in years.

 

"You do make me happy, Oboro." She proved it by gently reaching out to lay a hand on Oboro's cheek, cupping it and smiling gently. Oboro could not recall more than a few times that Beruka had ever looked like that; it made her heart leap. She pushed back the urge to cry from her own happiness as she jumped forward to give Beruka a hug, this one lasting longer than the shortlived embrace from so long ago.

 

It didn't feel right to kiss just now. Oboro had hardly been given the chance to hug or hold hands with Beruka, and she felt like it was well worth waiting for Beruka to be comfortable. For now, she was elated at the fact that she was allowed so close, especially to someone who hadn't let anyone in.

 

"I want to see a time when our happiness is all that matters." Without war, even if it was years or decades from now, Oboro would continue to fight for that.

 

"I do, too." Beruka's unspoken promise was one to work towards that goal, with Oboro at her side, along with her beloved friends.

**Author's Note:**

> the song that is quoted (kinda loosely) is make you feel by alina baraz and galimatias! i was listening to it the last few days and i was like 'mmm yeah beruka/oboro'. also, i kind of headcanon beruka is a/demisexual? i mean she's not a lady you'd just kiss on a whim. but i hope i did a good job here, my bros.
> 
> also, the lady of the moon thing is a mixture of my knowledge on myths about the moon, goddesses, etc. also i threw in a lot of headcanons so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
